Beneath a Starless Sky
by Psamathe
Summary: Alex's under cover assignment is causing Gene some concern. Contains spoilers for Series 3. Set prior to episode 8. Gene/Alex.
1. Chapter 1

Gene Hunt hated this part of town, this time of night. He detested striding through the pools of piss and puke ignoring the prostitutes, drug dealers and other nameless scum lingering on the rain soaked pavements. The urge to grab the nearest pimp and grind his face into the pavement was almost unbearable.

The streets of London were paved with shit.

Turning up the collar of his coat he glanced up at the sky, at the heavy clouds burning orange from the glow of the sodium lights. The sky in London was never truly dark, and Gene had trouble remembering the last time he had seen a star in the sky. Unbidden, a memory from his childhood flashed to the forefront of his mind… a green hill, an endless expanse of sky. A few moments when Gene Hunt had lain under the stars and truly known what it was like to be a child. Of course his dad kicked shit out of him when he got back home late for his tea… but the young Gene had figured it was worth the beating. Seemed like a hundred years from where he was now.

Every so often a car drove slowly past, sending up a wave of water onto the already soaked pavements. Business was poor. Not one of the prospective punters stopped. Gene couldn't blame them. It wasn't an attractive selection.

Several of the women called out to him as he walked by but they couldn't offer anything that he needed or desired… not anymore. There had been a time when Gene had been happy to accept certain favours in return for dropping charges or losing paperwork. He would never admit it, but Gene found it easier to look in the mirror since Sam Tyler had convinced him to stop all that bollocks.

Taking shelter in a doorway, Gene lit a cigarette, but the burn of tobacco couldn't disguise the stink of piss. God he needed a drink but he'd left his flask in the Quattro… safely parked several streets away. Right at that moment, he could think of at least a dozen other places where he would have preferred to meet his contact. And none of them involved walking through human excrement.

This hadn't been his choice.

He checked his watch, staring as the digits flicked over… 2 AM. Where the bloody hell was she? Ten minutes… he'd give her another ten minutes before heading home. This was nothing more than a waste of good drinking time. A police car drove past and Gene ducked back out of sight. Wouldn't look good if a plod saw him or even worse arrested him.

The tap of stiletto heels on the pavement pulled his attention back and he peered out into the pouring rain trying to make out the figure walking across the road. She didn't seem to be in any hurry, maintaining her character even as she stepped out of the rain and joined him in the shelter of the doorway.

Despite himself, Gene had to admire her balls… figuratively speaking. Either she was one hell of an actress or she really had been a prostitute in another life.

Gene rarely felt this out of control. Having one of his officers undercover was bad enough but the fact that it was Alex… Looking at her now, dressed in heels, stockings, a short skirt, he felt none of the usual stirrings of desire. She looked as tired and as worn down as the rest of the women here. The thick layer of makeup did nothing to disguise the emptiness in her eyes.

"You weren't meant to make contact for another week," he muttered, "This had better be worth it."

"Money first," she said.

She held out her hand, a smile playing across her lips as Gene pulled out his wallet.

"Cheeky mare."

"If you want me to maintain my cover I've got to bring back the cash."

She had a point.

"That enough?" he asked, handing over a handful of notes. Taking them from him, she started to shove them into her bra… only to stop when Gene grabbed her hand.

"What's this?" he demanded, turning over her arm revealing a long, livid bruise.

"Nothing."

She snatched her hand away from him.

"Bastard… Right, I'm pulling you out of there."

"No! Gene I am so, so close."

He could force the issue, but Bolly wasn't one to follow orders. Take her home now and Gene would bet his right testicle that she'd be back by morning.

"When?" he demanded, "Tell me how we end this Alex or I swear to God…"

"You'll what? Put on a pair of heels and take my place? I'd pay good money to see that."

"When?" he repeated, not about to back down. He wanted her back at Fenchurch East, where he could watch her arse… and not just literally. Gene didn't want to admit that he'd missed her. Or that he worried about her out here on her own.

"Three days," she replied.

"You sure?"

"Yes," she touched the bruise on her arm, "Yes I'm sure."

In the distance a car door slammed, and Alex looked back along the street, her eyes suddenly wide with fear. Gene started to turn but before he could complete the motion, she grabbed him, keeping his back firmly turned towards the street. The next thing he knew she had dropped to her knees. It should have been a realisation of his wildest fantasy. But he never imagined Bolly, kneeling in what looked like diced carrot, her face taut with fear.

"It's Slater," Alex hissed, "He's always watching us."

Gene could hear footsteps approaching. Reaching for Alex, he wound his fingers in her hair, wondering for a brief moment how far she would go to preserve this illusion… and whether he would let her. He couldn't. Gene pulled her to her feet. She struggled briefly in his grasp, but he shook his head,

"Sorry Bolls," he whispered as he backed her to the wall and covered her mouth with his own. Kissing her should have been a delightful experience but he couldn't fail to notice the tension in her body and the lack of response in his own.

Gene wasn't paying attention to the hand that she'd plunged down the back of his trousers or the leg that was wound around his hips. The footsteps were slowing… stopping… watching. Realising that he would probably lose a couple of fingers when this was all over, Gene slipped his hand under the skirt she was wearing, disappointed that he couldn't feel her skin through the leather of his gloves.

Her fingernails tore into the flesh at the base of his spine. She was scared, he could tell. Her body was trembling against his and not in a good way. Gene was acutely aware that they couldn't maintain this illusion for much longer. He was fairly certain that she'd didn't want this. Go any further and he might as well call it … his mind wouldn't even formulate the word.

Their audience wasn't going anywhere.

Just as he was starting to think about shooting the bastard, Gene felt Alex's body relax for just a moment. Her lips softened against his, almost as if she were apologising for something. Three seconds later he found out why. Alex's knee crashed into his groin and Gene found himself slumped against the wall, clutching his family jewels. She followed it up with her well-practiced right hook. His head snapped back, making contact with the bricks. For a second he thought he saw stars.

"What the f…" he muttered to himself as he looked up at her. It may have been a trick of the light, but Gene thought that he saw a tear run down her face.

She wiped her mouth and pulled her skirt down. Without a backward glance, she walked towards the man who had been watching them. The man swung his arm about Alex's shoulders and led her towards the waiting car.

Three days… Gene told himself… three days… then come hell or high-water he was bringing Bolly home.


	2. Chapter 2

Three days she had told him…

God how could she have been so stupid. Gene had offered her a way out and she hadn't taken it. They ripped the blindfold from her eyes and Alex found herself blinking in dim light. There had to be twenty people crammed into the non-descript room.

A blow to her kidneys sent Alex stumbling forward. She tensed as the second punch fell. Her face this time… Alex bit her lip in an effort to stop herself crying out. Blood flooded into her mouth. Alex's legs were kicked out from under her and she hit the floor with enough force to knock the breath from her chest. Slater was standing over her, hands unbuckling his belt.

Oh God, this couldn't be happening.

"Pig! Did you think we wouldn't find out?"

Alex didn't answer. She remained silent, but the tactic earned her another smack in the face.

"Sharon here recognised your boss. She's had dealings with DCI Hunt."

"Needed a microscope to find it," the woman laughed. "Should get yourself a real man, love."

"Gene," she heard herself whisper, even though she knew that he couldn't possibly hear her. His name, the only words she had spoken since this ordeal had begun. A plea, a prayer… she didn't know which.

She tried to crawl away only for two other men to grab her and hold her down. The audience surged forward, eager to take part in her final humiliation. Someone ran a hand through her hair. Fingers gripped the strands, pulling painfully. Alex did know where she found the strength, but somehow she managed to yank herself away from the offensive touch and scramble to her feet. Unsteady in her heels, she stumbled towards the door even though she knew that there was no chance of getting through. She could hear them laughing as she made her futile attempt to escape. They stood back and watched her lurch around the room. Caged.

There was a window, but looking out all she could see was the sky. Heavy clouds. Black enough for night. A gust of wind-splattered rain hit the window.

Someone caught her arms, forcing them being her back and forcing Alex to her knees.

Metal cuffs snapped around her wrists.

Hands snatched at her shirt ripping it across.

The figures, half in shadow, surged forward once more.

Slater was there, standing before her, laughing as he thrust his hips towards her face. And, at that moment, Alex realised she would rather die than endure another moment of this. They didn't think she had anywhere to run. Laughter still ringing in her ears, Alex moved again, lunging towards the window and crashing through it.

There was a moment of blessed relief … before gravity took a hold and she fell into a clump of bushes. Even though her fall had been broken, the impact stunned her for a few precious seconds. Alex heard herself scream, just to prove to herself that she was still breathing.

Aching, bloody and bruised, she rolled to her feet and kicked off her shoes.

The rain-drenched street was empty, as were the cars parked by the kerb. A run down industrial estate in a non-descript part of London… Alex picked a direction at random and started to run… or perhaps stagger was a more accurate description.

"Please help me. Please help me…" she chanted the prayer in time with her faltering footsteps.

Somewhere in the distance Alex heard the roar of an engine. Headlights pierced the gloom and she realised that her fleeing figure was clearly visible. Spotting a narrow alley between the buildings, Alex darted down it. Stumbling out of the alley she found herself in another unnamed street… another car screaming towards her. The same car? Blinded by the headlights, Alex couldn't tell.

Turning her face from the glare of the lights, Alex lurched backwards, hoping to reach the dubious safety of the alley. A shadow moved in the darkness. No way… there was no way out.

Alex tripped but with her hands still cuffed behind her she fell face down on the tarmac. The car screeched to a halt but all Alex could do was lie there. She suddenly realised that she didn't care anymore. If her life was meant to end here then so be it.

There was a shout, but she didn't move, content to let the rain fall on her exhausted body. Alex didn't care that she was half naked. She didn't care about anything … not anymore.

If she stayed still, perhaps they would think she was dead. And if they thought she was dead then maybe… just maybe they would leave her alone. Alex closed her eyes, letting her breathing slow to the point where she was barely inhaling.

Hands dragged at her body, turning her onto her back. She tried not to flinch as her back touched the cold pavement. The feeling of hands on her body was her undoing. Sickened by the touch Alex had to twist away. She tried to stand but fell again. This time, someone caught her.

"No you don't."

Alex screamed. Loud enough she hoped that someone… anyone would hear her. A leather-gloved hand clamped over her mouth, muffling the sound. She tried to bite, to kick… anything to free herself but the arms that held her were unbelievably strong. Before she realised what was happening Alex felt herself being dragged towards the car.

A/N - Just wanted to add a huge thank you for the reviews!


	3. Chapter 3

Alex couldn't fight anymore. She let him drag her limp body along the road, to the car, to Slater. Alex tried to detach herself from the grim reality of what was happening. Closing her eyes she tried to remember her home in 2008, the smell of her daughters hair… focussing on that other place, that other life. But all she could see was a hospital room.

"Oi! Bastard! Let the lady go!"

Gene. For a moment Alex thought she was hallucinating. He couldn't possibly be here. Then his familiar figure stepped out of the alley and into the glare of the car's headlights.

The man holding Alex laughed and pushed her in front of him. His hand was still covering her mouth. She couldn't call out, couldn't shout a warning. She hated feeling this helpless.

"Stop or I will shoot!"

"And risk hurting her?"

Alex's eyes met Gene's. She nodded, silently giving him the permission he needed. His stance widened, his hands steady. She closed her eyes but the expected gunshot never came. The man holding Alex pushed her away before running off into the night. She stumbled into Gene's arms and he held her there for a second, almost hugging her.

"Handcuffs Bolly?" he mumbled in her ear.

Alex pulled herself out of his grasp. The bastard actually had a smirk on his face.

"Get the bloody things off me!"

"Unless you have the key hidden in your knickers…"

He paused and then reached forward to pluck one of the pins from her hair.

"He'll bring the others," she warned as he started work on the lock.

"I know... backup's on the way."

Alex bit her lip as the metal of the cuffs dug painfully into her wrists. The only way he could do this was to twist her hands into a position that was severely uncomfortable. She tried to keep silent, grateful beyond measure that, once again Gene Hunt was there when she needed him.

"Trust the Gene Genie," he offered her a tense smile as the cuffs sprung open. Alex stepped away from him, rubbing her wrists as she tried to get the blood flowing again.

Realising her state of undress, Alex pulled at the tattered remains of her shirt as she attempted to cover herself up. She didn't want anyone to see her like this.

Without a word, Gene removed his coat and helped her put it on.

"Come on," he said, "I have the sudden urge to kick shit out of someone and your mate Slater is first in line."

A2A2A2

The call had come in five hours ago. Five shitty hours of driving round these streets trying to work out where the Slater bastard had taken her. Gene didn't know if it had been luck or the intervention of some higher power when she'd run out in front of the Quattro. But then she'd darted away down an alley… stupid tart that she was. He was in equal measure pissed off and desperately relieved that he'd found her.

Alex was stumbling along beside him now, hanging onto his arm, as determined as he was to see this through. She was hurt, in pain and Gene had the strong suspicion that what he really wanted to do was get her away from here, and to a doctor. But he couldn't do that, not yet. Gene was determined to take Slater down.

Flashing lights and sirens greeted them as they exited the alley. Back up had arrived.

"Alex!"

Gene should have been surprised to see Jim Keats stride towards them, but he wasn't. The speccy little git seemed to have a talent for appearing where he was least wanted.

"She's fine, aren't you, Bolly?" Gene lied.

Alex remained uncharacteristically silent.

"Damn you Hunt! Can't you see that she needs a doctor! " Keats spat.

Gene couldn't help notice how the other man's voice softened when he addressed his next words to Alex. He really was a two-faced bastard.

"Come on Alex," Keats said, "I'll take you home."

Keats held out his hand, ready to lead her away, but Gene felt the grip on his arm tighten. Alex didn't want to go anywhere.

A choice.

As much as he wanted her safely away from this place, Gene knew that he'd have numb balls for a week if he forced her to go. He needed to find the bastard that had hurt her, even if it meant leaving Alex in Jim Keats' care. Unable to help himself, Gene glanced at her. She looked bloody ridiculous drowned in his coat, her feet bare. He gently removed her hand from his arm, entwining her fingers with his own for the briefest of moments.

"Wait here," was all he said before striding away.


	4. Chapter 4

Alex shoved her hands into the pockets of Gene's coat, trying to ward off the chill that seemed to be seeping into her bones. The heavy wool, now damp with rain, held little warmth. Her fingers encountered the outlines of a hip flask and for a moment Alex was almost tempted to take a sip.

"Come on, Alex, you don't need to see this," Jim said, his hand on her shoulder felt like fire.

"I'm staying," Alex replied.

"You've done your job. It's time to rest."

There was a hypnotic quality to his voice, and for a moment Alex wondered if she shouldn't just leave. She was, by her own admission, very, very tired. It would be so easy to give in to his pleading tones.

"He doesn't need you."

In the distance Alex heard a crash, and then a gunshot. Keats was wrong.

"Are you armed, sir?" she asked.

"What?"

Alex held out her hand.

"You don't need to do this Alex."

"Actually, I think I do. Please sir…"

Without another word, Keats handed over his gun. For Alex, the weight of it in her hand was reassuring. She started to run.

"Alex you haven't got any shoes on!" Keats shouted after her.

"I saw Die Hard twenty seven times!" she yelled back. Not that he would know what she meant.

Alex felt better as she jogged away from Keats. Her mind cleared as she strode through the assembled police cars towards the building where she had been held captive.

The ground floor was a warehouse, a huge echoing empty space with stairs at one end that led to offices on the second floor. Alex could hear shouts from above but some instinct told her not to join her colleagues. She ignored the stairs, moving instead to the back wall of the warehouse. There was another door, a fire exit… another way out. Moving closer, Alex could see that it wasn't quite shut.

She knew she should call for backup. There were a hundred good reasons why she shouldn't be doing this on her own but Alex wasn't in the mood for logical thinking. Pain and fear were driving her onwards… the ache in her body that she was trying to ignore and the very real concern that he would do this to someone else. Taking a deep breath she pushed open the door and stepped through.

The yard outside was stacked high with drums and bulk containers. On closer inspection Alex realised that they must have been there for some time. Exposed to the elements, some of them had tipped over, spilling their contents on the concrete. She trod carefully, avoiding the pools of what appeared to be congealed gunge. It was just so damn difficult to see anything. If anything, the rainstorm had intensified. Water was running freely down Alex's face but she didn't dare wipe it away.

"Bolly!"

She turned to see Gene silhouetted in the open doorway.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

"Slater?" she asked hopefully.

"Scarpered. He'll be long gone by now. "

"No. He knows the place is surrounded. I know him Guv, he'll lie low until we give up and leave."

"Alex…"

"He's here."

To prove her point, Alex pushed over the nearest drum. It crashed to the ground the lid bouncing across the concrete but it wasn't a barely identifiable liquid that leaked out.

"Oh God…

"Shit!"

Alex clamped her hand across her mouth as she tried to stop herself throwing up. Whatever was inside the drum had once been human and Alex had the horrible suspicion that it had once been a woman. She had dead woman on her feet.

How long had she been here? How long had her friends and family been searching for her? How many more? Alex knocked over the next drum and the next, the white flame of fury giving her the strength. Dimly she noticed that Gene was at her side adding his power to her own. Alex was ignorant to the fact that her hands were bruised, her feet were bleeding. All the pain would be worthwhile when the found him… and there he was, crouched inside a barrel.

"Get out, " Alex smiled.

She felt a surge of anger as she watched Slater crawl out of his hiding place. Miserable little shit. He was actually laughing.

"Shut up," she screamed at him,

But he didn't stop. Alex brought her gun up, cocking the pistol with every intention of using it. The world would be a better place without this particular piece of scum… Except there was a body between Alex and her target. Gene was standing in front of her.

"No."

"Let me do it!" she begged. "We'll tell them it was self defence."

"You're not a killer Alex."

Slater had hurt so many women. One shot, right in the balls… he deserved that much didn't he? To her dismay, Alex realised that her hands were shaking. She wasn't going to shoot. The moment had passed and she let her gun drop. She didn't even protest when Gene gave Slater a solid kick in the gut.

Alex slumped back her physical discomfort suddenly overwhelming. Dimly she was aware of Gene's voice, of other officers cuffing Slater and dragging him away. Her gun still dangled loosely in her grasp. It might have minutes or even hours later when she realised that Gene was gently removing it from her hand.

"Come on Bolls, let's get you out of here, " he said.

"We did it," she said, quietly, "It's over."

"Yes… it's over."

Gene took her arm and attempted to lead her away but she couldn't seem to put one foot in front of the other.

"Just want to rest a moment," she protested sitting down suddenly, nearly dragging him down as well.

"You can't sleep there."

"Just a moment…"

"Get up Bolly!"

But she shook her head. He could shout all he wanted, she wasn't moving. Gene crouched down in front of her and pushed the hair back from her face.

"How many fingers, " he asked holding up his hand.

Alex flinched, turning her head away from him.

"Leave me alone."

"Not this time Bolls. You let Slater smack you around the head one too many times. "

She fought as he picked her up. For a second his touch was as unwelcome as Slater's had been but the logical part of her mind resurfaced. This was Gene. He wasn't going to hurt her.

Resting her head against his shoulder Alex let her tears soak into his jacket. He wouldn't notice. It was still raining.


	5. Chapter 5

The other officers watched in silence as Gene carried Alex to the Quattro. Ray took a step forward but Gene shook his head. He needed Carling to take charge here. Almost tripping over himself in his eagerness to help, Chris opened the car door, allowing Gene to set Alex down as gently as he could. She felt far, far too thin… almost insubstantial in his arms. The Alex he knew was broken. The eyes that stared back at him belonged to a stranger.

"What have you done, Hunt?"

But Keats' accusations were the least of his problems. Gene didn't reply as he walked around to the other side of his car. He didn't care about anything other than getting Alex the help she needed. Besides, if he went back to the station now he'd be tempted to give Slater the beating he deserved. Gene wasn't about to let his anger get the better of him, not this time. Alex had been through hell to bring Slater in and Gene was dammed if he was going to jeopardise that.

He glanced over at her as he drove. She seemed smaller somehow, curled up on the seat, her eyes staring at the road ahead. Gene was at a loss as to what to say but the silence was worrying him. She didn't even scold him for his admittedly reckless driving.

The hospital was worse. Under the bright lights of the casualty department Gene could see every cut and bruise on her face, the glass in her hair, the grime and dirt that clung to her skin. He tried to follow when the nurse led her away only to be firmly asked to wait. No amount of shouting or waving his badge around seemed to make any difference. He was left alone, sitting on an uncomfortable orange plastic chair, gasping for a cigarette and a shot of single malt. His cigarettes were soaked, his whisky was in the coat Alex was wearing and there were small children crying. Right at that moment Gene truly believed that life couldn't get much worse. He had no idea what he was going to do if Alex was badly hurt. Gene wasn't stupid. He knew why he had been sent away to wait and the thought made him sick to his stomach.

An hour passed, then two. Gene tried to ignore the people around him. The screaming kids had gone, leaving him with the drunks and other scum. A bunch of lads burst through the door, shouting and jeering. One of them was covered in blood. Gene turned his head away. He would have liked nothing more than to start banging some heads together but before he could indulge himself a nurse appeared and signalled to him.

Alex offered him a tired smile as he burst into the cubicle. Despite the cuts and bruises she looked a little better. Gene shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded,

"Alright Bols?" he asked.

The smile faded from her face but before Gene could question her further the doctor interrupted,

"Your … uh … friend… hasn't suffered any lasting damage."

The implication in the young man's tone was clear. Unfortunately for him, Gene was in the mood to hit someone. He grabbed the doctor by the lapels of his white coat, shoving him against the wall.

"My 'friend' is a DI in the Metropolitan Police Force. She sustained those injuries keeping the streets clean so that snotty nosed little bastards like you can walk home safe at night!"

"Guv…"

Alex was on her feet, her hand resting lightly on his arm.

"Take me home," she said.

Gene let the man go and did as Alex asked.

The flat above Luigi's had the distinct air of being unlived in. Alex seemed glad to be back, at least that was what Gene wanted to believe. He wasn't the type of man to try to analyse anyone's feeling too deeply but he couldn't help thinking there was something sad about the way she trailed her fingers over the dust covered surfaces. Almost as if this wasn't the place she wanted to be. He stood in the middle of the living room not sure whether he should stay… or whether she wanted him to. For probably the first time since she had burst into his life, Gene wished that she'd say something… anything to break the heavy silence.

"I'd better…." he began, gesturing towards the door.

Alex nodded.

"Or I could…?"

And she nodded again. Gene dragged his hand through his hair, trying to resist the urge to swear.

"I'm going to have a bath," she said eventually.

"Right. Okay."

And Gene was left none the wiser as she disappeared into the bathroom. First things first he needed a drink. All he could find was a dodgy bottle of white wine but Gene poured himself a glass and swiftly followed it with another. Then, thinking about it, he poured one for Alex as well.

It felt strangely intimate to be knocking on her bathroom door. Girly bathroom rituals were a complete mystery to him and Gene wondered if he were breaking some unwritten feminine taboo. He could hear the water running, smell the floral perfume that he recognised as being distinctly Alex. Without meaning to Gene found himself wondering if she was naked. He was vaguely disgusted with himself for even letting his thoughts wander in that direction. However, when Alex finally opened the door, the only thing she appeared to have taken off was her make up.

"Thought you might need this," he said, awkwardly shoving the glass into her hand. He spilt a few drops in his haste to pass it to her. Alex stared at the liquid, as if she didn't quite know what to make of his gesture. She seemed surprised.

He looked away, unable to meet her eyes.

"Right… well… I'd best be off. I'll ask Luigi to bring you up some dinner. "

"Gene."

"Yes?"

"Make it dinner for two."


	6. Chapter 6

Alex gulped down her wine as she looked at herself in the mirror. The cuts and bruises on her face looked even worse without the heavy make up. Slowly, she started to strip off her dirty sodden clothes, noting each new imperfection on her previously flawless skin. The last few weeks had taken their toll on her body. Her skin was almost translucent in places and she could count her ribs. Alex tried to view the changes dispassionately. Injuries were inevitable, part of the job. But she couldn't ignore the sting of the hot water as she immersed her tired body. A tear ran down her face, quickly followed by another and another. Drawing her knees up to her chest, Alex started to cry.

She tried her best to muffle her sobs, desperately aware that Gene was close by. Alex didn't want him to hear her weeping. He would think it was a sign of weakness. Maybe that was what was wrong with her? Weak… pathetic… she hadn't been able to hurt Slater in the way she had wanted. God, what kind of sad excuse for a police officer was she? Inevitably her thoughts returned to the world she had left behind. That safer, more comfortable world where most of her police work only existed as pixels on a computer screen. Where her daughter still waited… Thoughts of Molly only made the tears flow faster.

Alex felt like she would cry forever but her body eventually ran out of tears.

Chest heaving, she gave into the inevitable and climbed out of the bath. She went through her usual routine, dousing her body with moisturiser, dressing herself in soft flannel pyjamas. She didn't bother to reapply her makeup or blow-dry her hair. Felling somewhat calmer she stepped out into the living room.

Alex half expected Gene to have left but he was there, seated comfortably on her sofa a glass of white wine dangling in his hand. The television was on.

"About bloody time," he muttered as he looked up from whatever it was he was watching. He gave no indication that he had heard her crying.

Alex realised that he must have nipped back to the station to shower and change. Hair still damp, wearing a clean white shirt that was unbuttoned at the collar, bare feet propped up on the coffee table...

"Better, " he was all he said, as he looked her up and down.

"I thought you didn't like to see a woman without her make up?" Alex replied, pushing her hair behind her ears.

"Some birds need it, some don't."

She pulled at her pyjamas in embarrassment.

"Not really skimpy."

"Adds to the air of mystery, Bols."

And hid the bruises, she thought to herself. She definitely didn't want him to see those. But Alex couldn't disguise the stiffness in her movements as she walked across the room or the gasp she uttered as she forced her aching body to sit on one of the hard chairs by the table. Gene stood up and came towards her, his expression unreadable.

"It'll hurt more tomorrow," he said eventually.

"What?"

"Bolly the nearest you've been to getting the shit kicked out of you was lacrosse at Rodean or whatever posh bollocks school you went to."

"And you have so much more experience?"

He didn't reply, turning his attention back to the television, his head bowed in thought. Alex was painfully aware of how fragile this was. She wanted him to stay but she didn't know if she was strong enough to deal with the consequences.

"Gene … tell me."

He looked back at her, the force of his gaze taking her breath away. For a moment Alex wondered if he could actually see into her soul.

'Tomorrow… tomorrow, it'll start eating you up inside. You'll start to second-guess yourself and wonder if you couldn't have stopped it. You'll start to believe that if you stay out of the way, if you stay quiet it'll never happen again."

It felt like he was telling her something deeply personal… but this wasn't the Gene Hunt she knew and thought she understood. He seemed vulnerable.

"What did you do?" Alex asked.

"Learned to hit back."

For some reason Alex felt like she wanted to cry again.

"Let me see," Gene said, quietly, crouching down before her.

"No."

"I'm trying to help you Alex. "

"You just want to perve."

When he reached for her she hit him. Not just once but again and again… hard enough to bruise her knuckles. To her horror, Alex realised that deep down she wanted to hurt him, to make him feel just a little of her own pain. But Gene Hunt wasn't about to let himself be her punching bag.

"Enough!"

He caught her hands, holding them firmly in his own.

"Bastard," she hissed.

Without asking permission, he raised the hem of her pyjama top, revealing the livid bruising across her ribs.

"No… the bastard is the one who did this to you."

Alex wanted to pull away, but his fingers were dancing over her skin, tracing the extent of the bruise. She bit back a gasp as his hand skimmed the bottom of her breast, traced the curve of her hip.

"It hurts, Gene," she whispered. "It hurts so much."

He touched her face, running a thumb over her swollen lips.

"I know," he whispered before placing a careful kiss on the corner of her mouth. Alex closed her eyes against the intensity of the sensation, leaning into his caress.

She couldn't remember the last time she had been so out of control of her emotions... so much so that the knock at the door was almost a relief.

"That'll be Luigi," Gene said, moving away at last. Alex took several deep breaths as she attempted to regain her composure.

Luigi and two of his waiters bustled into the room, laying the table with a snow-white cloth, lighting candles. He even had a vase of white roses.

"Luigi! This isn't a date," Gene protested.

"You complain too much. Is very romantic."

The Italian seemed unperturbed as he placed the dishes of food on the table and opened a bottle of red wine.

"Luigi… Look at me!" Alex added her objections. No one could possibly think that she was dressed for a romantic evening.

"Mr. Hunt thinks you beautiful whatever you wear," Luigi smiled, handing Alex one of the roses with a flourish.

"Out!" Gene bellowed.

"Of course, you wish to be alone… enjoy… enjoy."

Alex actually found herself smiling as Gene ushered Luigi out of the flat and then banged the door shut behind him. The whole situation was vaguely ridiculous.

She'd been expecting a plate of spag bol not an elaborate three-course meal. Picking up the wine, she poured two glasses, handing one to Gene as he joined her at the table.

"I told Luigi you wanted something nice…"

"This is nice."

"Alex, I'm not here to get in your knickers," he said, sounding almost embarrassed by the admission.

"I know."

Alex took a shaky sip of her wine, knowing that if Gene wanted to touch her again she wouldn't want stop him.


	7. Chapter 7

Alex settled deeper into the cushions on the sofa as she listened to the rain beat against the windows. She was starting to wonder if it would ever stop.

Dinner had been a quiet meal. Alex had done her best but had been unable to do more than pick at her food. Gene had watched her pushing the pasta around her plate, saying nothing. He'd finished off her tiramisu.

The alcohol… the alcohol was helping though, taking the edge off the fear and the pain. Alex knew that she'd probably had more than enough but she couldn't seem to stop herself from draining the last of the bottle into her glass. She wanted to drink enough to forget… just for one precious night.

The door to the flat opened, and Alex looked up to see Gene walk in, shaking the drops of water from his jacket. He'd been outside to smoke.

"Shift your arse," he told her.

Alex moved over to give him space on the sofa. He looked tired, she realised… no worse than that … exhausted. Yet he seemed happy to stay here with her, even though he was practically asleep on his feet. Moving closer, she settled against him, resting her head on his shoulder in mute apology. She slipped her hand onto his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her fingertips.

"Are you trying to take advantage of me DI Drake?" he chuckled as he slid his arm about her shoulders. They sat in silence, Gene's fingers idly stroking through her hair. Gentle, not demanding.

"You know… you know what the really stupid thing is?" she said eventually.

"What?"

"I'm supposed to be the expert… officers who suffer unusual trauma come to me for help … And now… God, I can't even help myself!"

Alex closed her eyes, her hand clutching at his shirt in her efforts to hide the fact that she was crying again. She hated herself for losing control, especially now when Gene couldn't fail to notice.

"There are people here who care about you, Alex," he said. "Remember that."

"People?"

"Even Keats thinks the Sun shines out of your arse."

"And you, Gene?"

He glanced away before answering.

"You're one of my team, Bolly."

"Somehow I can't see you carrying Ray into casualty," Alex smiled at his obvious discomfort.

"No chance… he's a lardy bastard."

His hand stroked her cheek, the simple gesture more powerful than the words Gene would never be able to say. Alex leaned into his touch, relishing the moment of tenderness from this most complex of men. Comforted, she settled back against him enjoying the closeness, the warmth of his body pressed against her. Gradually, she felt the rhythm of his breathing slow. Alex felt her own eyes drift shut as she gave in to the lure of sleep. She almost didn't hear the soft knock on the door.

"Bloody Luigi…" Gene muttered, his voice heavy with sleep.

"Ignore it," Alex said.

"Can't do that," he said, getting up and going to the door.

It was a sad fact of the life they led. No phone call could go unanswered. No knock on the door ignored.

"What!"

He sounded very pissed off and Alex was certain that whoever was at the door would be leaving very rapidly. She didn't expect to hear the sound of a single gunshot.

She might have screamed. She might have tried to run to Gene only to find that her legs would no longer support her weight. Her mind refused to process the fact that he was lying on her kitchen floor, blood staining his shirt. She clawed at his body, trying to stop the bleeding, trying to get him to open his eyes…

In her next moment of coherent thought Alex found herself looking up at Slater…

… And then there was silence.


	8. Chapter 8

"Alex!"

The shout of pain and anguish was torn from the very depths of Gene's soul. Clinging onto the kitchen counter, he managed to pull himself to his feet. For one brief second he thought that he was all right then he made the mistake of looking down at himself… Half his shirt was soaked in blood. And it hurt…

"Alex!" he called out again in the vain hope that she was still somewhere in the flat.

They had been together on her sofa… almost asleep. He remembered her warm body pressed against him, her soft breath on his skin. She would have heard the gunshot… hidden … stayed quiet… but Gene knew that she had been with him. Holding him, begging him to wake up and help her. Station … had to get to the station. Clutching his shoulder he staggered down the stairs and out into the street.

CID was a hive of quiet activity when Gene stumbled through the doors. He couldn't understand why they were all still here. Didn't they know?

"Shaz, tea five sugars!" he ordered in the silence that followed.

Chris was the first one to speak.

"Bad news, Guv, Slater escaped. Don't know what happened. One moment he was with DCI Keats and the next…"

"I know he escaped you useless piece of shit. He's got Alex! Now get out there and find her!"

They all looked at each other.

"DCI Keats said that we should…" Chris began only for his words to fade away under the intensity of Gene's glare.

"Go!"

There was a scraping of chairs as the team almost fell over each other in their attempts to escape Gene's wrath. Only once the room was empty did he look down at the gaping hole in his shoulder. Entry but no exit wound. The bullet was still in there somewhere. Gene silently thanked whatever higher power had been looking after him… Point blank range. Slater should have been able to put that bullet straight through his heart.

Shaz was at his side with the first aid kit trying to assess the extent of the damage to his shoulder, but Gene was having none of that. He'd asked her for tea not TLC. Grabbing the nearest bandage he stuffed it into the wound, signalling to Shaz that she should tape it in place. He could see that she wanted to say something but she was a smart girl and knew when to keep her mouth shut.

"Whiskey… top draw filing cabinet," he said.

She did as he asked and fetched the bottle. Not bothering with a glass, Gene poured the whiskey straight down his throat. He had to find Alex. Couldn't leave it to that bunch of tossers. Gene had no idea what kind of bullshit Keats had been feeding them but they should have been out on the streets. Fuck that, they never should have let Slater escape. He reached into his desk drawer, his hand brushing against an old tin box as he fumbled to find his gun. His right arm was almost useless. Even if he managed to pull the trigger, he doubted that he would be able to hit anything.

"Shall I call an ambulance, Guv?" Shaz asked.

"Yes," Gene replied as he pushed past her, "Slater's going to need it."

Once outside, Gene tried to pick a direction at random but something was nagging at the back of his mind. Slater couldn't have got far on foot not with Alex fighting him every step of the way. And she would fight, Gene was sure of that. He glanced across the street, his gaze automatically finding Luigi's darkened restaurant. It was gone midnight. The restaurant was closed but its proprietor should have still been up and about. Gene had spent enough late nights in there with his paperwork to know that Luigi didn't go to bed as early as he claimed. Why were the lights out? Why hadn't he come to investigate the gunshot?

Gene swore to himself, wanting to blame the pain and the blood loss for his complete failure to see the bleeding obvious.

"Ray, Chris, get your arses back here now!" Gene shouted into his radio as he headed across the road.

"Guv?" Chris sounded even more confused that usual.

"They're in Lugi's you div!"

He was forced to stop when he reached the steps to the trattoria, clutching at his chest, his breathing coming in ugly gasps. His hand came away wet with fresh blood. Gene knew that he was going into shock but he refused to give into the weakness. He couldn't let Alex down.

The door at the bottom of the steps was locked. Gene hesitated. Knowing that opening it would probably take more brute force than he had at the moment. He tried to tell himself that Alex was still alive. Slater hadn't wanted to kill her… at least not straight away. Which gave rise to a whole series of unpleasant thoughts. Gene knew that he couldn't wait for the dynamic duo to find their way back. And the day he couldn't smash a door down was the day he hung up his boots.

A swift kick was all it took, but the exertion left Gene weak and sweating. He staggered through the open door knowing that he wasn't strong enough to take on a geriatric nun never mind a viscous bastard like Slater. He paused as he entered the darkened restaurant letting his eyes adjust. All was quiet. The chairs upended on the tables and Gene started to worry that his copper's nouse had failed him… and the possibility that he might be wrong. He could smell the residue of a hundred Italian meals and something else. Gene had spent enough nights in dodgy restaurants to recognise the distinctive odour of spilled red wine.

He looked down at his boots, and the sticky trail of red liquid that led towards the bar … one, two, three bottles smashed. The broken glass crunched beneath his feet as he moved further into the room.

Feet clattered on the steps down to the restaurant and Gene turned back to see Ray and Chris appear.

"Chris with me. Ray round the back. "

Gene gave them their orders without preamble. He didn't have the energy to spend on shouting. He took a deep breath, then another… Some part of him needed the pain. If it stopped hurting, Gene knew that he was finished.

"Guv."

He looked up to see Chris standing behind the bar.

"What?"

"It's Luigi."

The restaurant owner was sprawled behind the bar, blood oozing from a cut on his forehead.

"Look after him."

"What about you?"

Ignoring the younger man, Gene strode towards the kitchen, focusing on the gun that was now clutched in his left hand. It felt unfamiliar… no longer a part of him. He doubted that they still retained the element of surprise, but with Ray covering the back door, Slater had no way out. Caged… Gene knew that he would have one chance to end this… one shot. He hoped to God that Bolly had enough sense to keep out of the way.

Gene paused by the door, listening signs of movement from within. His patience was rewarded when he saw a shadow pass across the strip of dim light at the bottom of the door. Gene didn't hesitate, he slammed the door open, aiming at the point where he thought Slater would be. But his aim was off and his shot bounced harmlessly off one of Luigi's saucepans. It only took Slater a matter of seconds to recover and shield himself behind Alex's seemingly limp form.

"Down, Hunt!" he hissed, his gun pressed into Alex's side.

Gene did as he was asked, placing the gun on the floor and stepping back. Slater shoved Alex away. She hit the wall, sliding bonelessly to the floor.

"Hands where I can see them," Slater ordered.

Hating himself for being at the mercy of this bastard, Gene did as requested and raised his hands. The rudimentary dressing had already become dislodged and he felt the warm trickle of blood run down his side.

"The gun, kick it to me!" Slater ordered.

Gene eyes fell on Alex, huddled at the back of the kitchen, a picture of weakness and defeat. She raised her head for a brief moment, her eyes meeting his, fire burning within. Gene nodded and kicked the gun sending it skidding past Slater.

Alex was on her feet in an instant, the weapon clutched in her hands.

"She's not going to shoot me," Slater laughed.

"Wrong," she smiled and aimed a little lower.

As Alex shot the bastard in the balls, Gene realised the horrible truth… he was still in Slater's line of fire. One thought went through his mind as he saw Slater's finger reflexively tighten on the trigger.

Getting shot twice in one day was just taking the piss.


	9. Chapter 9

God … God… shit… no… Alex sank to her knees beside him, pressing her hands over the wound in Gene's shoulder. She'd seen him twist away from Slater's bullet only to lose his balance and crash to the ground, his head impacting with the tiled floor. Reckless bloody idiot. Always had to play the hero. God only knew how much blood he had lost.

"Ray. Ambulance. Now!"

Alex bent her head close to Gene's trying to feel his breath on her face. Nothing. No whisper of air on her face. She laid one hand on his chest but couldn't detect any movement. A sound that may or may not have been a sob escaped her throat. Definitely a sob… followed by another. Shit, she couldn't do this, not now. Someone placed a hand on her shoulder and Alex suddenly realised that Jim Keats was crouched beside her. She hadn't even noticed him arrive.

"Let me take him," he said, gently trying to move her hands but Alex shoved him away.

"Gene… you have to fight," she begged.

"Just let him go, Alex."

"I can't."

There were stars… all around. Alex could feel the wind in her hair. She breathed in the scent of warm grass on a hot summer night. For a brief moment she was at peace and then Keats spoke again.

"That's right, Alex," he crooned. "He's gone. It's over."

"No!" Alex snapped.

The stars vanished. Laying Gene down on the floor, Alex moved over him, tilting his head back. Urgently she pressed her mouth against his, breathing for him, willing him to live. To her surprise she felt a subtle pressure in response, the brush of a tongue against her lips. Shocked, she pulled back.

The bastard actually had a smirk on his face.

"I'm not dying you daft cow," he opened an eye and looked up at her. "Not a bad way to go though."

Alex placed her hand on his chest again. He seemed to be breathing more easily now.

"Give over woman … Just need to rest a bit," he muttered as his eyes drifted shut again. She looked up to see Chris approaching with the paramedics.

"I'll go with him to the hospital," he said.

"No… No I'll go," Alex argued unable to think coherently.

"You… er… might want to get yourself cleaned up first… ma'am"

Looking down, Alex realised that Chris had a point. She was still in her pyjamas and said pyjamas were liberally coated with Gene's blood, as were her hands and face.

"Right… yes, Chris. I'll be there as soon as I can. Call me… call me if his conditions changes."

She took the radio he offered.

"What about him?" Ray interrupted, aiming a kick at Slater who was still writhing on the floor. The sight of him was enough to make the bile rise in Alex's throat.

"I want him fit enough to stand trial," she said, wondering how seriously she had injured him. There was a lot of blood. For a second she had to press her hand to her mouth. Alex pretended not to hear Ray snigger as she turned on her heel and headed up to her flat.

Her steps slowed as she reached the landing. She could see the door hanging open and a trail of blood leading down the stairs. There was more in the kitchen, staining the floor and the work surface. Alex could only imagine the effort it had taken for him to come to her rescue once again. The remains of their meal still littered the table. An empty bottle of wine sat by the sofa. The keys to the Quattro were lying abandoned on the coffee table. Alex touched her lips in bittersweet memory of the ghost of his kiss. But she knew that there was little time for sentimentality. Gene needed her with him, not drifting around the flat in some starry-eyed haze.

Dispassionately, Alex washed the blood from her hands and face. She dressed herself in her favourite jeans and sweater, taking her time to make herself presentable. Alex couldn't do much about the bruises on her face. Finally, she clipped her hair back and slipped on her jacket. For the first time in what seemed like forever, she almost felt like Alex Drake again.

She drove the Quattro to the hospital. Throwing it around the darkened streets in a manner worthy of the Guv himself. Alex didn't like to admit to herself that there was more than concern for a colleague behind her dangerous driving.

"Ma'am?" The radio on the seat next to her crackled to life. Alex slammed her foot on the brakes and brought the car to a screeching halt. For a moment she felt like her heart had stopped.

"What is it, Chris?"

"It's Slater. He didn't make it."

"What?"

"DCI Keats was with him. He said it was peaceful in the end."

Peaceful… Slater didn't deserve peaceful. He deserved to be dragged to hell.

Dropping the radio, Alex scrambled out of the car, emptying the contents of her stomach on the pavement.

It was a very long time before she had the strength to get back behind the wheel.


	10. Chapter 10

"Bugger off," were the first words out of Gene Hunt's mouth when he realised that someone was standing over him. He remembered the sound of a gunshot, Alex leaning over him and being able to see right down her pyjama top… after that everything was a bit of a blur. There was an over starched sheet pinning him to a lumpy mattress so Gene guessed that he'd made it as far as the hospital. Sadly the figure standing over him wasn't Bolly in a nurse's uniform.

"No flowers, Jimbo?" he grunted.

Keats didn't reply straight away. He stood there, looking down at Gene with the air of a man who had scraped something particularly nasty off of his shoe. Gene met his gaze with equal derision.

"Alex killed Slater," he said, eventually.

Gene closed his eyes and swore under his breath. Shit. He hadn't wanted that, not for Alex. She hadn't been shooting to kill, he was sure of that.

"And do you know why?"

"Because she's a bloody good copper and the scum deserved it."

"She did it for you, Hunt. Because that's what you expect… what you demand of your officers. They'll do anything to impress you. "

"Bollocks."

Unable to help himself, Gene laughed in Keats' face. Chris… Ray … Shaz… Gene would have believed that of any of them but not Alex. She cared more about her lipstick than impressing any bloke. For all their talk of Mahler and intimate chats in the CID kitchen, Gene's guts told him that Keats didn't know Alex very well.

"Did she try to reason with him? Talk to him?" Keats went on.

"There wasn't time for a conversation!"

"You poison everyone, Hunt."

To Gene's disgust, Keats moved closer, bending down to whisper in his ear.

"Alex is mine, Gene. Body heart and soul… She just doesn't know it yet."

Lashing out was a mistake. Gene knew that as soon as he moved but he wasn't about to let anyone threaten his Bolly. He didn't give a rat's arse about himself but Alex was off limits. Keats laughed as he easily stepped back out of range of Gene's fist.

"Do you wuv her Gene?"

"Shut up."

"Alex and Genie sitting in a tree… "

Pain and weakness forgotten, Gene struggled to free of the bed sheets, and ripped the catheter from his hand. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his hands around Keats' throat but although his mind was willing his body betrayed him. Gene only managed to take two steps before his legs gave way and he crashed to his knees.

"No need to beg, Gene. Or did you have something else in mind?"

Keats licked his lips, a gesture that was both obscene and terrifying. Darkness lapped at the edge of Gene's soul. He found himself transfixed, unable to move.

"Guv?"

Gene hadn't even noticed that the door to the hospital room had swung open. He turned his head to see Alex standing in the doorway. She started towards him but Keats blocked her path, resting his hands on her shoulders and effectively stopping her in her tracks.

"Alex," he asked, "I've been so worried. Are you all right?"

"Not really," she admitted.

She'd been crying. There were traces of tears on her cheeks, betraying her compassion for the man she had killed. Keats' face was a picture of concern but somehow Gene couldn't believe that the expression was genuine.

"There will have to be an inquiry."

"I know. "

"Trust me, Alex. I'll make sure you're okay."

"Thank you, sir."

She actually sounded grateful and for one horrible moment Gene thought she was going to hug Keats. He was relieved when all she did was move him out of the way.

"Shouldn't you be leaving, Jim?" Gene spoke up as Alex crouched down beside him.

"Right… right… yes… don't want to play gooseberry."

Twat was the first thought that went through Gene's mind as Keats apologised his way out of the door. Two-faced git was the second.

"What did he mean?" Alex asked.

"Nothing… just bloke talk."

Her eyes narrowed. She knew he was lying but Gene wasn't about to say anymore. Alex didn't need to known that Keats wanted her.

"You shouldn't be out of bed," she went on.

"It wasn't my choice."

"You tried to hit him, didn't you?"

"He's a git… of course I tried to hit him! Help me up."

She was strong for a skinny bird and somehow managed to haul him to his feet and back onto the bed.

"What am I going to do with you, Guv?" she sighed.

He had several interesting suggestions but settled for,

"You can get me out of this place for a start. "

"I don't think that's a good idea…"

"Clothes! Now!"

Gene knew that he was being a bit of a bastard but he felt vaguely ridiculous and painfully aware of his own vulnerability. He suddenly hated the fact that Alex was seeing him like this. His immediate instinct was to drive her away. However, it seemed that she had known him too long for mere shouting to bother her too much. His bloodstained clothes were dumped in a heap at his feet as she snapped,

"I'll be outside."

He hid a smirk as he watched her arse leave the room. As much as he liked the Alex who had cuddled up to him on the sofa there was something reassuring about the pissed off version. She was fighting again.

Gene took his time getting dressed. The exertion was enough to leave him sweating and shaking. There was definite pity in Alex's eyes when she came back and found him sitting on the bed in is vest and trousers. Putting his shirt back on had proved to be too much effort. Alex helped him into it and Gene realised that, for the moment, he was forgiven.

The sun was coming up as they drove away from the hospital, blackness fading to grey. Gene drowsed in the passenger seat of the Quattro not really paying much attention to their surroundings. He was exhausted, just wanting to be somewhere he could lie down and sleep. Technically speaking he could have done that at the hospital but he didn't like the thought of being in a place where Keats could wake him up. Damaged by pain and blood loss, Gene wanted the security of a locked door between himself and the outside world. The Manc Lion was crawling back to his lair to lick his wounds.

She drove back to Luigis.

"I don't know where you live," she explained as she stopped the Quattro outside.

Her vulnerability was suddenly evident again and Gene didn't argue as he let her guide him up the stairs.

"I'll sleep on the sofa," he offered when they got inside.

"It's a big bed… and I don't think you're in a fit state to ravish me."

Unfortunately, she was right. There definitely wouldn't be any ravishing going on.


	11. Chapter 11

This should have been perfect. Spending time in Alex Drake's bed was something Gene had spent the best part of three years fantasising about. He'd even taken a sneaky peak at Shaz's Cosmo when no one was looking just to pick up useful tips … but the reality was something of a nightmare.

For a start, he was wearing girl's clothes. Alex had given him one of her oversized T-shirts to sleep in. He was grateful that it was clean but less than impressed with the fact that the word 'Fame' was emblazoned across his chest. He was only slightly reassured that he'd been allowed to keep his own boxers on.

Exhausted, he should have been able to sleep even though the day was just beginning. But all he could do was stare up at the ceiling trying to remember the last time he had actually spent the whole night with a woman. It had to have been back when he had still been married… before he'd taken up permanent residence in the spare room. Since moving to London his usual MO consisted of a shag, a fag and then home for a bacon sandwich and a decent night's kip in his own bed… alone.

Now he was lying in what felt like an impossibly small space, painfully aware that he couldn't touch the woman next to him for fear of hurting her. She slept from fatigue rather than shagged out bliss, pain and misery etched into her features. There was really only one reason why he was here. He'd seen the shear terror in her eyes at the thought of being left alone and like a soft Southern nancy boy he'd agreed to share her bed.

The mattress shifted as Alex rolled towards him and Gene gritted his teeth as her arm flopped across his waist. That was another thing … Gene Hunt did not snuggle. It was poofy, stupid and robbed him of perfectly good sleeping space.

"Alex," he whispered into her hair, hoping that she'd wake up and realise what she was doing. At the sound of his voice, her hand clutched at the t-shirt, dragging at the material until it bit painfully into his shoulder.

Shit, she was definitely trying to kill him. He tried to move away, but found himself perilously close to the edge of the bed.

"Bolly," he spoke again, his tone suspiciously close to a girly whimper.

But her only response was to fling her leg across his. At any other time he would have been perfectly happy to be between Alex Drake's thighs but the last thing Gene wanted at that moment was for the remaining blood in his body to head South. Alex was wearing pyjamas that should have been more of a passion killer than Ray in a tutu and looked like she'd gone ten rounds with Henry Cooper. But God help him but he still wanted to shag her senseless…

"Alex! Let go of me you dozy tart!"

"Sorry," she mumbled. Her grip relaxed and Gene breathed easily again.

"Now shove over a bit."

Alex laughed as she obliging moved back towards the centre of the bed.

"We're not good at this are we?" she said.

"Been alone too long," Gene admitted, wondering what exactly was happening.

Talking in bed was another thing that Gene Hunt didn't do but it had been a shitty day and Alex had borne the worst of it.

"Yes… yes we have," she replied, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

And the last thing Gene wanted was to see her cry.

"Alright Bolls, come and have a cuddle if that's what you want."

He raised his good arm and let Alex slip into his embrace.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"Don't be."

He dropped a kiss into her hair, wondering why holding her suddenly felt so right. Unable to stop himself, Gene kissed her again, letting his lips brush against her forehead. Alex raised her head, her eyes drifted shut, her lips slightly parted… and Gene realised that she expected more from him. He also realised that, at that moment, he was unable to deny her anything. She sighed when his lips brushed over hers. As kisses went it wasn't the most earth shattering, but Gene was painfully aware that he was unable to take things further. And dear God he wanted to. The sight of Alex Drake surrendering herself to his touch was something truly wonderful to behold. He tasted her, just once and the little moan she made as his tongue tangled briefly with hers was almost his undoing. Reluctantly, Gene pulled away.

"Sleep, love," he said as he drew her closer.

This bed sharing business wasn't all that bad really, Gene decided as he closed his eyes.


	12. Chapter 12

"We should get up," Alex mumbled.

"In a bit," Gene replied, his fingers stroking her hair. She had the suspicion that her manc lion was purring.

Alex definitely didn't want to move. The rain had finally stopped and the sun was streaming through a gap in the curtains. She'd slept for a night and a day but her body was still in the grip of a strange lassitude. Warm, comfortable, safe… leaving the bed would mean facing the reality of this strange world she had found herself in. The world where Alex Drake had killed a man. She closed her eyes, reliving the moment when she'd pulled the trigger and the hatred that had burned in her heart.

"I need coffee," she said suddenly, wriggling out of Gene's embrace and out of the bed.

"Make us a bacon sarnie!" he called out after her, happily oblivious to the dark turn her thoughts had taken.

Stepping into the kitchen, she saw the blood. The warmth seemed to drain from her body. No longer happy and at peace, she started to shiver. The red stain served as an unpleasant reminder and Alex needed to get rid of it. All thoughts of coffee and breakfast were forgotten as she filled a bucket with water and found her scrubbing brush. Dropping to her hands and knees, she started to clean the blood from the floor, scrubbing at the same spot over and over again.

"Bolls?"

She looked up to see Gene standing behind her, probably come in search of his sandwich.

"Need to clean this up," she muttered.

"No you don't come on…"

He crouched down next to her and tried to remove the brush from her hand, but Alex pushed him away. Head down, she kept on scrubbing the floor. The blood had dried and didn't seem to be coming off. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Gene pick up his jacket and start searching thought the pockets.

"If you're going to smoke, open a window," she snapped.

"Bloody hell it's like being married again," he grumbled, but he did as she asked.

He stood by the window, staring moodily at the street below and Alex found herself wondering how much time the ex-Mrs. Hunt had spent scrubbing her husband's blood off of the kitchen floor. And even when the floor was clear, there was more… She attacked work surfaces, removing every trace of red. Even when the blood was gone she looked around for something else to clean. There were still dirty plates on the table. She raised her hand, willing to sweep the whole lot to the floor.

"Enough Alex!"

Gene threw his cigarette out of the window as he reached for her, catching one of her hands in his.

"Let me go!"

"No!"

Gene turned her palm upwards and Alex stared down in surprise, noting the beginnings of a blister. She suddenly felt pathetic. Gene tugged gently, pulling her into his embrace.

"I didn't mean to kill him," she whispered.

"I know, I know."

She didn't want to cry on him, not again. Alex wanted to be strong but Gene was making it difficult. His fingers had slipped underneath her pyjama top and were stroking the soft skin on her hip. Soothing… arousing… she didn't know what he wanted. Everything had changed… and it was scaring the shit out of her.

"I don't know what to do," she admitted.

"Just don't buggar off to Spain."

Laughing a little, Alex hugged him tighter only for him to push her back with a moan of pain.

"I should take a look," she suggested.

Gene didn't argue, but he winced as Alex helped him out of the T-shirt. The dressing on his shoulder was stained with dried blood and Alex gently removed it, intending to replace it with a clean one. She touched him tentatively at first, her fingers gradually becoming more certain as she probed the area around the wound. The stitches were neat and clean. Painful, but Alex couldn't see any signs of infection. It looked as if Gene had been lucky. He sat passively as she redressed the wound, and Alex let her hands linger a little longer than they should have done. No one could claim that Gene Hunt had the body of an Adonis but Alex was almost disappointed when he pulled the T-shirt back on.

It might have been her imagination but she thought his hands were shaking slightly as he lit up again. Probably a case of the DTs, she figured. It had to have been at least eighteen hours since he'd had a drink. Moving back to the kitchen, Alex found a clean glass and filled it with whiskey.

"What happens now?" she asked, handing him the glass. His fingers closed around hers for a brief second before he turned away. Alex had the presentiment that she wasn't going to like his answer. Gene lived by his own peculiar code of honour. Whatever he was doing he probably had a reason ... some kind of twisted logic that only made sense in the mind of Gene Hunt.

"We go into work tomorrow you'll shout at me and I'll call you a dozy tart… business as usual."

He raised the glass to his lips, draining the liquid in a single swallow.

"And the inquiry?" Alex pushed, "Jim says there'll have to be one. I need you Gene."

"No you don't."

Despite bright sunlight that was flooding the room, Gene's face seemed bathed in shadows.

"Keats wants to destroy me, Alex. If he succeeds…"

"He won't."

"… I'll need you out there, keeping my streets clean. I won't let Keats drag you down too."

"Gene…"

"Ray's still got a lot to learn, Chris hasn't got the nous, Shaz…"

"Will make superintendent one day."

"Maybe… one day… You're better off without me, Bolly."

And that was the terrible truth. She didn't want to be without him. Alex had no idea how this had happened. How disdain and dislike had turned into something else.

"Come here."

"Don't touch me," she hissed.

It would be so easy to sink into his arms, but Alex knew that if he touched her she would never be able to let him go.

"I think I'd like you to leave now," she said.

Gene nodded. Making no protest at all. He knew exactly what he'd done to her. Bastard. Alex watched as he gathered up his clothes. The bloodstains only served to remind her how much they had been through in the past few days. He paused at the door, turning back to her one last time. For a moment she thought he was going to change his mind, apologise … do anything but leave… She was disappointed.

And Alex did nothing but watch him walk out of the door.


	13. Chapter 13

The last thing Alex ever expected to see was photographic evidence. Four days later, when the plain brown envelope landed on her desk, she opened it without thinking. The photos spilled across her desk … Gene standing at the window of her flat… Gene with his arms around her… A professional had obviously taken the shots and Alex had the feeling that Jim Keats had taken a great deal of pleasure in delivering them.

"You were spying on me," she said.

"I was keeping you safe," Keats countered. "Slater has dangerous associates. Hunt didn't think to offer you any protection."

"He didn't need to. He was there with me. "

"Typical arrogance… Alex, the man was injured. Do you really think that he was in any condition to help you?"

"Say what you have to, sir," she snapped, folding her arms across her chest.

Keats sat himself on the edge of her desk, looking down with her with pity in his eyes. Even though she was fully clothed there was something about Keats' gaze that made Alex feel naked. He wasn't just undressing her with his eyes he was staring into her soul.

"You're letting yourself get too close, Alex… losing your detachment," he said.

Alex turned her head away, unwilling to acknowledge the truth in his words. She took a deep breath,

"I am not sleeping with DCI Hunt, sir. Our relationship is purely professional."

The words came out more harshly than she'd meant them to and her tone betrayed something of her bitter disappointment. What had she wanted from Gene? He'd made her feel safe, loved, and secure … and then he'd pushed her away. Alex pretended that she understood his reasons, but deep down she knew that she was fooling herself. If Jim Keats really was a threat surely she and Gene were stronger together than apart?

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," Keats went on. He almost sounded sympathetic. His hand rested briefly on hers.

"You haven't," Alex said.

"Let me make it up to you."

"I'm fine, really …"

"Let me buy you dinner."

Alex glanced towards the office door, wondering if Gene was listening to their conversation. He seemed to be busy with his paperwork… something Alex knew was highly unlikely, which meant he had probably heard every word. Her suspicion was confirmed when, for a brief moment, Gene raised his head and his eyes met hers.

"I won't let him hurt you, Alex, " Keats crooned.

What had Gene told her once? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer? Alex wanted to know more about Jim Keats… about why Gene saw him as a threat.

"Yes Jim," Alex replied, trying to look anywhere but in the direction of the office. "You can buy me dinner tonight."

Keats didn't take her to Luigi's, something for which Alex was profoundly grateful. She couldn't have eaten a meal with her work colleagues in the same room. The atmosphere in CID had been downright hostile all day. Even Shaz had seemed cold and distant… and had 'accidentally' added far too much sugar to Alex's tea. Their attitude had only served to piss her off so she was happy to ditch them and eat with Jim at a very nice French restaurant several streets away.

It was late when they walked back. Alex couldn't work out where the time had gone. She couldn't recall their conversation being so enthralling that the hours had passed without noticing.

"Could I see you upstairs?" he offered when they finally paused outside of Luigi's

"I know the way," Alex replied gently. "And this is a first date, Jim."

He looked at his feet, seemingly embarrassed as he asked his next question.

"Does that mean there's going to be a second date?"

Smiling, Alex brushed her lips against his cheek before she walked away. For some reason she felt unaccountably weary. Jim had said very little about himself but had seemed extraordinarily interested in Alex's opinions. She admitted that at first it had been nice to be listened to without interruption or ridicule however as the meal continued she had felt under pressure to answer his questions.

She climbed the stairs slowly. Her flirtation with Jim Keats had achieved absolutely nothing. Now, Alex was starting to wonder if the perceived hostility wasn't just a figment of Gene's imagination. The Guv had never taken kindly to anyone encroaching on his territory. Jim Keats was someone that couldn't be controlled and Gene Hunt didn't like it. And yet there was still something that bothered her.

Both herself and Sam had made a similar impact on this world but Gene had grown to accept their presence... Eventually. But Alex had the feeling that he would never recognise any contribution that Keats might make. Was it just that fact that Keats was another DCI that prompted the antagonism? A complex problem. One that Alex couldn't hope to solve after a heavy meal and one too many glasses of wine.

All she wanted to do now was sleep off her incipient hangover and work out how she was going to face her co-workers the following day. However, as she let herself into her flat she immediately realised that all wasn't right.

Gene was there.

Leaning against a wall, surrounded by a wreath of smoke, he looked as if he'd been waiting for a while. He ground out the cigarette beneath the heel of his boot as he started to walk towards her. Alex found herself transfixed by his gaze. Even in the dim light, his eyes were impossibly blue.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, inexplicably angry at the fact that he'd let himself into her home.

"Saw you with Jimbo."

"I don't see how that is any of your business."

"Didn't like it."

She didn't even protest as he pushed her against the wall, his knee sliding easily between her thighs as his mouth found hers. Alex surrendered to the kiss, returning it with equal passion. Angry with him, loving him… wanting him so badly that it hurt.

"Need you," she gasped into his mouth, her hands groping at his arse in her attempts to bring him closer. Gene's hands swept under her dress, brushing her stocking clad legs until he encountered the suspenders at the top of her thighs. He pulled back.

"Hoping to get lucky, were we? Another Thatcherite wanker to notch on your bed post?"

"Bastard!"

Her immediate instinct was to hit him, her hand making brutal contact with his face before she could stop herself. Stupid jealous twat. She couldn't believe he was still throwing that in her face. It had been three years damn it. And she'd been living like a bloody nun every since. Seduction had been so far from her mind that she hadn't even bothered to check that her knickers matched her bra.

"Why don't you just piss on me and have done with it!" she yelled at him.

"What?"

"You don't own me, Hunt!"

"Don't I?"

He stepped closer to her again, his voice deepening to a growl,

"I'll call him back, shall I? Jim Keats, the man with a rat's nob."

Alex met his eyes, refusing to be intimidated.

"Size doesn't matter. It's what you do with it that counts."

Placing both hands on his chest she shoved him away, pushing him off balance and onto the sofa. The surprised expression on his face was almost worth the aggravation he had caused.

"And you, Gene Hunt, have yet to show me you can do anything with yours except brag about it."

He made a grab for her, both hands landing on her arse as he pulled her into his lap.

"Feel that, sweetheart?" he whispered in her ear as his hips shoved gently against her. Despite the layers of clothes that separated them he somehow managed to touch her just right. Alex couldn't help but moan as she pushed back against him.

"God yes," Alex hissed as he trailed searing kisses along her throat. She'd been wrong, so damn wrong. In an instant, he had one hand in her knickers, the other stroking her breasts.

"Didn't think you could… uh… multitask," she managed to squeak before giving up any further pretence. She belonged to this man, in every sense of the word.

Finally, as his teeth closed on her shoulder, Alex saw stars.

A2A2A2

There was a videotape on Jim Keats desk and a note from his supervisor. Expecting congratulations on a job well done Jim played the tape first.

The footage was dark and it took several moments for his eyes to adjust, before he could make out the figures on the screen. Two people, entwined in a lovers embrace.

As Jim watched, the man raised his head, staring straight at Jim with the fire of triumph in his blue eyes. Shocked, Jim stumbled backwards. He didn't understand it.

How could he have failed?

His legs buckled beneath him as he collided with his desk. Dislodged, the note fluttered to the floor.

_'DCI Keats, _

_Report to section 666 for further management training._

_Chief Superintendent Nicholas Callahan.'_

"No! No! I'll do better next time! I promise," Jim screamed to the empty room. 'I don't want to go. I don't want to…"

**THE END**

Just want to add a huge thank you to everyone who took the time to review this story. XXX


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